MONKEY BUSINESS at the MUSEUM
by plasma22
Summary: A museum curator has some concerns about the museum and art-dealers associated with it. The team helps him out. Season 3. Involves ALL the characters:action/humor/romance. Story is COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1: A new client

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Human Target, or any of its characters.

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><p>In Season 3: Ilsa is busy with the paper-work of her foundation, Winston brings in clients, and Chance managed their personalized security business. Chance and Ilsa get along well (or have a tacit truce). They all kinda know that Guerrero has a kid, although only Chance knows a little more about the details. And Ames, well - young, single, and Ames.<p>

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><p><strong>Monkey Business at the Museum<strong>

**Chapter 1.  
><strong>

Chance walked down the stairs into the office. Winston was busy on the computer in the conference room. He nodded a greeting to Chance.

"Ilsa wants to have a word with us this morning. She may have a client for us."

Chance pulled out a chair and sat down. "Really, Ilsa knows someone who may want our kind of service?"

Just then the elevator buzzer sounded and Ilsa walked into the office. She saw the men in the conference room and walked right up to them.

"Good morning Chance, Winston! I take it you read my message? I have an old friend who used to work at the museum in London. Peter recently moved to San Francisco, and is now in-charge of the Gilbert Museum on Walker Street. He has some concerns about the art-dealerships around here."

Before Ilsa could finish, Guerrero walked in with a cup of tea and sat down.

"Yeah, there are lots of shady dealings that go on around there, what's the fuss!"

The elevator buzzed. Ilsa smiled and got up.

"Ah, that must be Peter; he can tell us himself." She rushed out of the conference room to greet a young, well-groomed man. Peter gave Ilsa a big smile and a warm hug. He whispered something in her ear that made her laugh and blush. They stood together and conversed for a few minutes.

The three men watched from the conference room. Guerrero scowled at Ilsa's shrill laughter, Chance showed no reaction whatsoever, and Winston smiled approvingly.

"So is this museum dude here to chat with the boss, or does he have some business with us. I have stuff to finish in cold storage." Guerrero got up to leave, but just then Ilsa and Peter walked in, chatting in French. Guerrero muttered something under his breath and sat down.

An ebullient Ilsa introduced her friend, "Gentlemen, this is Peter, an old friend from London. Peter, this is the team."

The men grunted their greetings and everybody sat down to talk.

When the elevator buzzer rang again, Guerrero ground his teeth, "I guess we might as well wait for Ames to be seated; I don't have the time to go over the story again with the children!"

Ames walked in with an apologetic smile. "Sorry I am late." When she spotted Peter, she liked what she saw and pulled the chair closest to him for a seat. "Hi! I'm Ames, part of the team, so what brings you here?" she gushed.

"I took over the Gilbert museum a couple of months ago - this is a small, private museum with an interesting and varied collection of arts you know, great Roman statuaries, medieval treasures. I am currently working on re-evaluating and updating the museum collections and starting a new database system for them..." Peter looked up at Ames and realized he needed to simplify, and get to the point. "I feel like my coworkers are doing their best to be uncooperative, and obstruct my work," Peter put simply.

"Well, no one welcomes a new boss!" dismissed Ames, with a wave of her hand. Her three male co-workers smiled in unison.

"Well, it is more than passive resistance. There is something fishy going on there," Peter pressed

"What do you mean?" asked Chance, as he finally started to take Peter seriously.

"We are preparing to showcase a new set of exhibits from around the world, starting next week. As the pieces come in and I oversee their authentication, I feel like strange things are happening. Paperwork goes missing, my associates don't want me around when they do business with the local art-dealers here, or the ones out-of-town, and even the insurance agent for the antiquities seems to ignore my concerns." Peter paused for a second and added hesitantly, "Also, I seem to have had more accidents, all close-calls, in the last 2 months than I have in my entire life."

"So this resistance you are facing is quite serious!" commented Winston thoughtfully.

"I think so though I can't say for sure. We have a big preview for our patrons on Sunday. As I looked through the guest list I saw Ilsa's name and decided to invite her personally. When she told me what you do, I thought you might be able to help."

"Well, we can check around to see what's going on," said Winston. "Chance can go with Ilsa to the preview on Sunday, snoop around, and check the guests there as well."

"I can be Peter's date for that night, in case he has trouble," suggested Ames.

Chance pushed his chair behind, "Okay, we'll start looking into it."

Peter thanked everyone and got ready to leave. He gave Ilsa a kiss on the cheek, "À bientôt."

"See you soon," Guerrero translated for Ames, who looked like she really needed to know.

"At least your French is better than your Spanish!" she muttered back to him as she skipped up to Peter as he walked to the elevator, "I will see you on Sunday. Let me know if you have any concerns about your protection before that!"

Chance looked at Guerrero. "So you can make some phone calls?"

Guerrero got up to leave the room, "Done, dude."


	2. Chapter 2: Include the women?

**Chapter 2.**

_(some reference to season 2 episode 12)_

Chance, Guerrero, and Winston sat at the table discussing the case.

"Word is that the small, private museums are a good cover for the black-market business in art. The French dude's museum seems to be the current one being used." explained Guerrero.

"So what exactly is going on there?" asked Winston.

"Dunno for certain. A museum is a good cover for many things. They often get a free pass at Custom's checkpoints, so you can slip illegal items along with legitimate ones, into the country. Of course, that means you have to have one of your guys working in there. I guess you could exchange some of the exhibits that have already been authenticate with imitations, and no one will know. There are all kinds of possibilities - just a question of supply and demand, you know."

"So do your people have any leads on where the supply and demand is coming from?" asked Chance.

Guerrero slid a sheet of paper across the table to Chance. "That's a list of the names of some questionable art dealers in the area who have connections to the museum."

Chance went down the list. "Okay, let's pay them all a visit."

"Okay you want to visit the top half of the list and I will do the others?" asked Guerrero.

"Well, I was thinking Ames and Ilsa can help on some of them."

The two other men were taken aback.

"That is a cut-throat market there, do you think it is safe to send them?" questioned Winston.

"Well not to _all_ of them, they can visit the stores - which are a cover for anything illegal going on. The people will be less suspicious if they see the women. Ames should be able to plant some bugs, and Ilsa knows a lot about this collectible stuff- she should be able to convince them that she is genuinely interested in acquiring something special."

Guerrero looked at Chance "Seriously, you want to send Ilsa, after what happened at Claypool's?"

Chance laughed,"Well it's not like there is any rum or sodium-thiopental involved!"

The two other men looked at each other confused, and asked simultaneously, "Rum?"

Chance looked embarrassed, shook his head and quickly corrected himself. "Wine, I meant wine, wine and thiopental. I was confusing it with another incident."

Winston was about to question him further but fortunately for Chance, Ames walked into the room just then.

"Hey guys, how are things with the cartographer's case?"

The men looked at her puzzled. Winston finally got it and laughingly corrected her, "The _curator's_ case? Yes, we are talking about that."

Guerrero shook his head in disgust and looked at Chance, " I hope she isn't going alone. She will be dead by the time she gets to sentence three!"

Chance motioned Ames to take a seat as they discussed the case further.

"You and Chance will visit a jewelry store tomorrow. "You chat with the owner and try to get him to look at his supply and customer list files on the computer, so that I can download them." said Winston to Ames. "Meanwhile Chance can look around and check-out the people who work there."

"Guerrero can take Ilsa to the antique-dealer in Chinatown and let's see if we can get them to promise her a rare item.


	3. Chapter 3: Ames and Chance snoop around

**Chapter 3.**

"I'm sorry, you want me to do what? Ilsa asked, taken aback. She stood by the stairs, hands on her hips and glowered at Chance who was sitting midway up, on the stairs.

Very matter-of-fact, Chance repeated, "I want you to go to Chinatown with Guerrero and chat up an antique dealer there to see if he is involved in the black-market trade. It is quite simple, Ilsa!"

"Oh sure, that's what you say now. And if something goes wrong, you will be berating me, calling me stupid, or an amateur!" pouted Ilsa as she flopped down on the lowest step of the stairs.

Chance swallowed, hands on knees looked down at Ilsa, thinking of how to respond. Ilsa did have a good memory!

"Well, what do you think Guerrero?" Ilsa attacked Guerrero, as he came by with a cup of tea in his hands. At his puzzled expression she clarified, "Bad idea, taking me along to Chinatown, right?"

Guerrero shrugged unconcerned. Working on the tea-bag in his cup, he said without looking up, "I'll be there - the one professional here who stays focused, and saves the day."

Irked by the jab, Chance walked down the stairs and informed Guerrero, "If you are referring to the Claypool case, _it was I_ who helped Ilsa get out of the property."

"Maybe dude, but as I recall, I was the one who saved the day," taunted Guerrero tapping the knives on his belt.

Ilsa, who had paid no attention to the banter between the boys, got up to leave.

"Fine, I'll do it as long as your cognizant of the fact that it was your idea!"

Chance patted her on the back, " You'll be fine. Promise. You know all about antiques - you'll be in your element. You'll handle it just as smoothly as you did the bank transfer for, what was his name? ... the deadhead guy, last year."

Ilsa shrugged in resignation and walked off to her office to get ready. Guerrero scowled into his tea cup and walked to the kitchen.

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><p>Ames got out of a convertible wearing a red wig, a blue sun dress, and a plethora of dazzling accessories, and with Chance as her security-detail in tow. She made her way into a quiet, well guarded, jewelry store in San Francisco.<p>

Walking into the store, Ames pretended to be interested in some of the jewelry displayed, before identifying the owner of the store. She walked up to him and expressed her interest in rare ruby bracelets from Burma. She played the role of a rich, spoilt, young girl well enough for the owner to take her interest in the jewels seriously. These items being of a a rather exclusive market, the owner took Ames to his office to search his database on the computer. Ames rested her arm on his desk. Her chunky bracelets were embedded with wireless sensors that enabled Winston, in the truck parked nearby, to hack into the computer. Soon enough, Winston was able to download all the customer and supplier lists from the computer.

Chance's job was to checkout the other employees of the store and get pictures of them. He needed to point his phone/camera to people and things of interest which provided a wireless image or video file on Winston's computer in the truck. So Chance walked around the store with his phone, pretending to be texting, as he acquired images for Winston, and waited for Ames. Occasionally he would show interest in a piece of jewelry to get a sales associate to chat with him. Most of the women working there were eager to help him, and would end up divulging their background concerning the jewelry business. Not one sales associate though - Claire, was a friendly, but quiet salewoman who did not succumb to Chance's flirty inquisition. She answered his questions about the jewelry, but did not hover around when Chance tried to get personal.

When he had taken all the pictures he needed in the showroom, Chance tried to sneak into the rear storage area through a single door at one end. As he stepped in the storeroom he bumped into one of the store's security officers - 'Andrew' was the name on his badge. Andrew had a saw in one hand and some planks of cedar in the other. He glared at Chance and got suspicious when he saw that Chance had his phone flipped open. Angrily, he raised his hand to whack Chance with his tool when Claire appeared at the doorway. As Chance jumped out of Andrew's way, his phone fell and the camera lens cracked.

Claire looked at Chance and inquired in her squeaky little voice, " Are you looking for your client, the young girl?" Chance was surprised, but glad for her timely intervention. "Yeah, she's been gone a while and it is my job to make sure she stays out of trouble ... If you know what I mean," Chance joked. Claire smiled and pointed to the door on the other end, but stayed in the storeroom with Andrew when Chance left. Just then, Ames showed up with the owner and Chance and Ames left the store.


	4. Chapter 4: Night at the museum

Chapter 4

Ilsa and Guerrero walked into the conference room.

"How did it go?" asked Winston.

Ilsa smiled confidently, "Mr. Xiou has promised to let me know if a certain elusive bronze Buddha from Hong Kong becomes available. I made it clear I will make a very generous bid for it."

She pulled out a SIM card from her purse and pointed to Guerrero. "And my associate here, Mr. Jones, will be contacted on this phone number, if Mr. Xiou wants to convey a message to me."

Guerrero raised his eyebrows in surprise, and took the SIM card from Ilsa.

"Anything else going on there?" asked Chance.

"Hard to tell," said Guerrero. " But, Xiou seems to be the head honcho."

"Well, I've run all the people that Chance took pictures of at the jewelry store through the system and nothing comes up. I am checking them on the Interpol database now, let's see if we get any hits," said Winston.

"Darn, I couldn't get a picture of ole Andrew in the back room, since he smashed my camera" said Chance. "He seemed the most suspicious of them all."

"The guy was probably just building something with the cedar wood in the back room and saw you intrude!" explained Winston. "That's hardly a reason to get skeptical!"

"Well, and Claire too." Chance continued, ignoring Winston's comment. "Nothing came up when you ran her picture? Something suspicious was going on there, with those two!"

"Yeah, not the kind of something you are thinking of!" scoffed Winston who assumed the two were just linked romantically. "If you two guys finish checking out the rest of the names on the list, we can have some idea of what to look out for on Sunday, at the preview in the museum."

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><p>It was a lively night at the museum. The crowd of patrons was large but not overwhelming. There was wine, music, and slide shows of the new exhibits. Ilsa walked in with Chance: She looked elegant in a charcoal suit and a white chiffon blouse, as did Chance in a black suit and white shirt.<p>

Peter was busy welcoming all the guests. Ames followed him with a drink in hand. She touched her right ear as Winston spoke into it. "Pay attention to the people who talk to Peter. Particularly if they ask any questions about the museum administration."

"Everything's cool, I am on it," assured Ames.

Meanwhile a limousine drove to the rear of the building to park. One of the traffic coordinators tried to direct the car in the opposite direction, but the driver, Guerrero, explained,

"Dude, that parking lot is a mess. My boss is an old man, he isn't going to stay long. It's easier if I park behind the museum."

And so, Guerrero got access to the loading docks of the building. "In position," he let Winston know.

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><p>There was laughter in the room, Beethoven in the background, and the guests walked around peering at the new exhibits in the north-wing of the museum. Ilsa was chatting with a couple while Chance stood by her looking for the exit signs. His eyes narrowed as he noticed some movement by the far exit door. "Care for some fresh air?" he interrupted Ilsa. She took the hint, excused herself, and followed Chance through the door into the corridor. The corridor was well lit, but had no signs of life; just muffled sounds from the party room.<p>

"Now what?" questioned Ilsa uncertain of Chance's intentions.

"Just follow me, I have a hunch," whispered Chance trying to figure his way through the corridor. He touched his ear, " Winston, how do I get to the employee's offices?"

"That would be the east-wing, I am sure that's where Peter's office is," Ilsa informed.

"Winston, how do we get to the east-wing from here?" Chance clarified.

"Continue to the end of the corridor and make a left, and then another left, two doors later," Winston responded a minute later.

Chance and Ilsa tiptoed their way to the office-wing.

"Now what?" Asked Ilsa following Chance carefully.

Chance looked around trying to decide which rooms to enter. As he stood in the middle of the hallway looking around, he suddenly began to sniff around by the adjacent doors.

"Really Chance," Ilsa derided, rolling her eyes, "Are we going to be smelling out a solution like at Claypool's barn?"

Chance ignored her comment and stood by a door sniffing hard. He raised his hand to show he wanted silence as he ensured no one was in the room. Then, playing with the door handle, he unlocked the door, and swung the door wide open. Ilsa and Chance stood at the threshold and peered in. They stared at each other in amazement.

"I knew that Andrew was up to something!"

Inside the room was a neat stack of wooden boxes in varied sizes lined up against a wall. The fragrance of cedar wood was strong. Ilsa sniffed around and examined one of the smaller boxes.

"Cedar boxes! Great for storage, lightweight; Oh and look! With false bottoms!" Ilsa started to inspect the secret compartment of some of the boxes.

Chance looked around the room for clues, "So what came or will leave in these boxes, I wonder?"


	5. Chapter 5: Ilsa in action

**Chapter 5**

Winston was busy watching the surveillance cameras of the museum on his computer screen in the truck. Just then, a little gadget began to beep. Winston called Guerrero.

"The cell phone Ilsa gave you is ringing - I will forward the call to your cell now."

Guerrero picked up the call on his phone as Mr. Jones. A few minuted later he spoke to Winston again.

"Yeah, that was the dude from Chinatown - he wants Ilsa to know that there is a good chance he can pick up the Buddha for her. Wants to know her price."

"Okay, that's good," replied Winston, "but could you have tried a little to keep the conversation going for more than 40seconds? I didn't stand a chance - tracing the call!"

"Don't matter dude, he has to be at the party in the museum. Must have met a supplier there - too much coincidence that he called right now."

"Okay," agreed Winston, "I will alert Ames and Ilsa to see if they can spot him. What's your plan for now?"

"I'm cool - just enjoying the scenery for now," said Guerrero as he continued to chomp on his celery.

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><p>Ames wiped some Brie cheese from the corner of her mouth. She was finally alone with Peter. He showed her some of the exhibits, and she was enjoying his company. They were leaning on one of the display cases, when Ames whispered,<p>

"Peter, don't look yet! Who is the old man on the left corner with the wine glass in hand? He was talking to you a little while ago about his vacation in Bali."

Peter looked down for a moment and then to his left. "Oh, that's Collin Ways. He is a wealthy old man with bases in Hong Kong, London, and San Francisco. He is in the shipping business, I believe."

"Okay, what about the tall, blonde woman with those huge emeralds around her neck! She was chatting with the old man for a long time," asked Ames.

"Good question, I can't say I really know what Marissa does. She seems to know a lot about art, and knows everyone around here, but I have never really gotten to know what her profession is."

Ames looked around. "Peter, I am going to step out for a second. Try to start a conversation with the Collins guy when I walk in." She walked out and called Winston.

"I think I know a guy who might have been talking to Xiou here tonight. Want to tap his phone?"

"Careful, Ames!" warned Winston. "Yes, if you could put a bug in his phone that would be great. Do you want to wait until Chance gets back to the party?"

"I can manage on my own thanks," replied an annoyed Ames. "No telling where those two skipped off to!"

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><p>Ilsa and Chance rummaged through the cedar boxes in the office room. They were of different sizes but they all had a secret compartment. And they were all empty.<p>

Ilsa's shoulders sagged in disappointment. "Looks like these have been recently brought in."

"That's okay, we can have this room monitored to see who comes to get them," Chance assured her. "Let's see if anything else of interest is going on around here." Chance looked out of the sealed window for a few seconds. Then he opened the door slightly and peered out to see if anyone was in the hallway. Seeing the coast was clear, he nudged Ilsa out of the room, back into the hallway heading towards the exit sign. They took the stairs to the lower floor. They slipped through the first open door that they found there and entered a very long, dimly lit room.

"Looks like this used to be a display room in the past," said Ilsa. There were empty display-tables arranged in a line, from one end to the other, in the center of the room, but nothing else. The walls were bare and there were short, red, velvet curtains on the windows.

Chance and Ilsa started looking in the drawers of the display-tables. As they got half-way down the room they heard voices in the adjacent room. It seemed like they were heading towards the room.

"Okay Ilsa, We have to hide," said Chance looking around desperately for a way out.

"Hide! Where? There is nothing to get behind," panicked Ilsa and ran towards a window.

"What are you doing?" hissed Chance. "The windows are sealed, you cant jump out! And the curtain only comes down to your waist. What are you trying to do?"

The voices in the next room started getting louder. Ilsa froze for a moment, then pulled the curtain partially over the window. She took her jacket off, dropped it on the floor, and perched on the window sill.

Chance stared at her in disbelief: Ilsa was completely losing it under pressure! She was posing by the window, with the curtain covering a side of her, and for some strange reason she had discarded her jacket on the floor.

He marched towards her in fury, oblivious of the voices that seemed to be rapidly approaching the room.

"Is this some kind of joke! Have you completely lost it? You complain about being called stupid and then you ..."

The door opened and two men walked in conversing quietly. Ilsa quickly leaned forward and grabbed Chance by the neck, pulling him towards her. He winced as her nails dug into his neck. As he opened his mouth to gasp in pain, he felt Ilsa's lips cover his. He opened his eyes wide in horror as she swung her legs around his hips and began to kiss him fervently. She moved the curtains so that they were in its shadow.

Winston heard Chance gasp loud, and then heard nothing. Worried, he called out to him in the hearing device. "You okay Chance? Can you hear me Chance?"

Chance of course, was unavailable to comment. He rolled his eyes in despair wondering who to deal with - Ilsa, Winston, or the two guys approaching them. As the voices got clearer, Chance recognized Andrew's voice. He moved himself a little further into a curtain and whispered in Ilsa's ear:

"Those guys cannot see my face. One of them can recognize me."

Ilsa gulped, cupped Chance's face in her hands and continued kissing him.

The men noticed the two and quickly approached them. Chance had his back to them and Ilsa made sure her hands covered his face at all times. As the men stood there in front of Ilsa, she looked up at them over Chance's shoulder and hissed,

"We came here for some privacy. Do you mind?"

"This area is restricted to employees only, it's not meant for people to ..." started the man.

"That's precisely why I chose this place," snapped back Ilsa. "Now if you could get on with your business and let us finish ours, we will be off before you know it!"

Ilsa went back to her business, pulling the curtain over them, and the men walked off shaking their heads in defeat.

When they heard the door click shut, Chance lifted his head and eased himself out of Ilsa's embrace. Speechless, he stared at her for a moment.

"What the heck was that?" he finally thundered. "You could have gotten us killed!"

"Oh but I didn't," sneered back Ilsa. "I happened to save us both, with what you may think was a daft idea!"

She bent down to pick up her jacket. Chance walked up to help her get it on and continued a little more calmly:

"We were in no position to protect ourselves had the guys pulled out guns, you know."

Ilsa adjusted her jacket, and met his eye:

"Well, I had a human shield -you -to protect me, didn't I? And don't look so indignant - as far as I could tell you were having a pretty good time!"

"That's not the point," pressed Chance.

"There is no point," scoffed Ilsa. "This was the best solution under the circumstances! You're just going to have to live with the fact that this time I came up with an idea that saved you!"


	6. Chapter 6: Guerrero in action

**Chapter 6**

Ames walked back into the room to see Peter chatting with Collin Ways. She walked up to the men and slipped her arm around Peter's waist. Peter introduced her to Collin and she joined the discussion of antiques. Midway in their talk, Ames moved from Peter towards Collin, patting his back when he joked about something. Her hands lingered on Collin's coat until she quietly slipped out his cell phone from his pocket. She placed it in her purse, and continued chatting. Shortly thereafter she excused herself and rushed to the women's room. There she spoke to Winston, getting instructions on how to place the bug inside the cellphone.

Ames went back into the room to find no signs of Peter or Collin. Confused, she looked around frantically for them. She finally spotted Peter talking to a couple. But no sign of Collin!

"Winston, I have a problem here. I have lost Collin. I see Peter now, maybe he will know where Collin went, but the cell phone is still with me."

Winston sighed, "Look here Ames, don't be saying anything to Peter. He does not need to know anything about us tapping Collin's phone. Maybe I'll send Guerrero up there, he can help out."

"No, no, I can ask Peter where Collin went without telling him anything; I can manage on my own!" protested Ames.

"Well, I will send him anyway. It's not like he is busy or anything!" retorted Winston.

Ames walked up to Peter and managed to grab his attention. "I forgot to ask Collin the name of an art store, do you know where he went?"

"Some of his business partners are also here tonight. He is in the next room sharing a drink with them," Peter informed her.

* * *

><p>Guerrero walked purposefully into the north-wing of the museum. He wasn't too thrilled about the sudden change of plans - Winston sending him off inside the building to help Ames, and then to finish Chance's incomplete work in the east-wing.<p>

The party was in the second floor. He walked into a room in the first floor that was a makeshift kitchen for the party. He snatched a serving-apron from a chair, donned it, and marched on further towards where the hors d'oeuvres were being arranged on trays. There was just one man there, looking down, drying off some wine glasses with a towel. Guerrero hurried past him, tripping him in the process. The man fell face down with glass shattering everywhere. As he got busy in the cleanup, Guerrero picked up a tray of hors d'oeuvres and ran up the stairs to the party room.

Guerrero walked into the room looking around for Ames. She was standing by a display table alone, pretending to admire the exhibit. Walking up to her, he asked expressionlessly, "Care for some tofu, chicken or fish?"

Ames dropped the cell phone on the tray and picked up a piece of chicken. Guerrero picked the phone up and followed Ames's fingers on the table - she pointed to where Collins was chatting with a group of men.

Guerrero watched the group for a few minutes as they helped themselves to some food from a tray. As the server got ready to move on to the next group Guerrero walked up there. "Dude, the lady there wants some of the sausage on your tray," he told the server. As the man picked up his tray to move towards Ames, Guerrero gently stuck his foot out and tripped him slightly, so that a few pieces of food fell on the ground and on Collin's coat. During the ensuing fuss, Guerrero slipped the phone into Collin's jacket and walked off.

* * *

><p>"Okay Guerrero now get to the east-wing, room 208 needs monitoring. It is an empty office room," Winston relayed.<p>

"On it, dude," said Guerrero as he walked out of the south-wing of the building and picked up a messenger-bag he had left behind a trash can near the entrance door. Adjusting it across his shoulder, he walked to the east-wing. The guard at the door stopped him.

"I have to check the network connections in the office wing. Peter just called me. Room 206. It's an emergency, man. I am the after-hours help."

Guerrero entered room 206, removed a couple of the ceiling tiles, hoisted himself into the attic space, and crawled his way into room 208. He dropped a camera down from the ceiling.

"Winston, getting the image from this?" he checked.

"Yes, I can see the door clearly on my screen," answered Winston. "Get out of there. Now, if we can get hold of Chance, you can help him with the business in the first floor."


	7. Chapter 7: Ames in action

**Chapter 7**

Chance walked arm in arm with Ilsa, down the corridor in the first floor of the east-wing. Chance grinned at her and asked,

"So, do you think your reputation will survive our little escapade?"

Ilsa shrugged her shoulders unconcerned, "My checkbook precedes my reputation! I am this museum's biggest donor."

Chance smiled, "All right then, you better get back to the north-wing party and join Ames and Peter. I need to find Guerrero and check out a few things."

"Can't I stay and help out?" suggested Ilsa.

Chance was firm, "You've done your bit, Ilsa. Time for you to get back upstairs."

Ilsa pouted but knew it was futile to argue. She squeezed his shoulder, "Be careful," and made her way back to the party.

* * *

><p>Chance traced his steps back to the room that he had been with Ilsa. He quickly found his way to the adjacent room from where the two men had originally appeared. The room had many missing bulbs and was poorly lit. The room was obviously used as some kind of storagedumping room for the museum furniture. Tables, chairs, display cabinets, etc., were placed randomly all over the room.

Chance began to look in some of the drawers of the tables in the room. As he moved to one end of the room and knelt down to look inside the lowest drawer of a desk, he heard footsteps and then ...

"Dude, where did you show up from?" asked Guerrero. He had a metal bar in hand ready to render Chance unconscious, and Chance was on the floor wrestling Guerrero's arm.

"I thought we were supposed to meet outside in another 15 minutes," gasped Chance.

"So did I," said Guerrero. "I was just checking out the place."

"Find anything?"

"Yeah!"

"Like what?" asked Chance in exasperation.

Guerrero shrugged, "Like packing material, bits of cedar wood, pieces of shipping crates. It's all done down here dude."

Chance thought for a moment, "Well, let's wait till the action happens - and we can catch them in the act." The two men left the room and headed for the loading docks where Guerrero had parked the car.

* * *

><p>Ilsa sauntered up to the party room. As she entered, she saw Ames and Peter talking earnestly. She smiled to herself - those two make a handsome couple!<p>

"Haven't seen you all evening Ilsa, I thought Chance was with you?" commented Peter.

"Oh, he just stepped out for a minute," responded Ilsa, not wanting to be the one to apprise Peter of the latest events."

A little later, Ames and Ilsa were alone together while Peter was busy with some other guests. Ames pointed to the woman with an emerald necklace, "Do you know that woman, Marissa?"

Ilsa slanted her head in the Marisa's direction, "I see her at parties, and we have talked before, but I can't say I know her very well."

"I have this hunch - she is somehow involved. Can you distract her while I go through her purse?"

Winston nearly fell off his chair as he listened to Ames's conversation with Ilsa.

"Ames, you need to slow down there. What are you trying to do?"

"Oh, I just want to tap her phone as well,"Ames said simply.

"Look, just because we showed you how to do it..., you cannot go around placing bugs in everyone's phones. People go to prison for doing that! Read the newspapers lately?" scolded Winston. "And what do you think Ilsa is going to have to say about it?"

"Oh, she's cool. She's been around us long enough; she knows what we do," Ames placated Winston.

* * *

><p>Marissa was washing her hands in the women's room. She put her purse down on the counter against the wall. As she wiped her hands Ilsa walked in and exclaimed,<p>

"Oh my, Marissa, you look lovely in green."

Marissa looked up surprised to see the mighty Mrs. Pucci, pay attention to her.

"Gosh, look at those emeralds! They are gorgeous," gushed Ilsa.

Starting to feel pretty good, Marissa walked up to Ilsa, leaving the sink area, to give her a closer look at the jewels.

"Are they Columbian or from Afghanistan? Hmm, really high quality." Went on Ilsa.

Meanwhile Ames slipped out of a stall and turned on the faucet right next to Marissa's purse.

"Can I see them in natural light," Asked Ilsa directing Marissa towards a window in the corner of the room, and taking her further away from the sink area.

As Ilsa kept her occupied with questions about the jewels, Ames pulled out Marissa's phone from the purse and worked on placing a bug in it.

When Ames walked out of the women's room, Ilsa turned to Marissa:

"Well, I would love to get something like that. If you hear of anyone selling such special jewels, do let me know."

Marissa promised to get back to her in a few days, and left the room with her purse.


	8. Chapter 8: Winston isn't happy

**Chapter 8**

Guerrero pulled out two take-out bowls of Chinese noodles and handed one to Chance. Chance raised an eyebrow but made no comment. He was always amazed at his friend's ability to be stocked with eatables where ever he went.

The two men were busy working on their noodles in the car when Winston called.

"Hey, guess what, monitored some activity in room 208 of the east-wing. A woman walked in, looked around, and then left in a hurry. She looked a lot like the woman Claire that Chance met at the jewelry store with Ames."

"Maybe I was right about Claire and Andrew being up to something," said Chance as he continued to slurp up his noodles.

"What was that noise? What are you guys doing? Wait... are you guys eating in the car?" Winston was exasperated.

"Got a problem with that?" Guerrero inquired sarcastically.

"Considering that I have been sitting in the van for the last four hours by myself monitoring rooms, phones, coordinating unplanned Norma Jeanes by Ilsa and Ames, why would I have a problem if the two of you get to put your feet up and enjoy an evening snack!"

"Good, because I don't need your permission to eat," retorted Guerrero. "And a few evenings spent like this might help you keep your pants on, without a belt you know."

"I can remember a time when my belt saved our lives," started Winston, when Chance intervened.

"Okay guys, let's focus on the work at hand. Okay Winston, maybe you should ask Ilsa to provide a small fridge in the van." Guerrero nearly spat out his food as he struggled to control his laughter.

"Now, anything interesting in Collin Ways phone calls?"

"No, he talks to a lot of people, but it seems only about his shipping business. Just conversations about schedules at different ports around the world."

"Can you see if any of the people he talks to are on the jewelers client or supplier lists that Ames helped you upload." Chance finished his noodles and opened the car door, "Let's see if we can locate Andrew or Claire."

* * *

><p>Chance walked into the room to find Ilsa sipping wine by herself.<p>

"Been busy I hear," Chance came up to Ilsa softly.

Ilsa smiled. "Yes, I think Ames is right about Marissa. I see her at parties everywhere and yet I have never known much about what she does. She is so social and yet secretive!"

"Well, we need to keep our eyes open for another woman as well." Chance pulled out his phone and showed her a picture of Claire. "She was seen in room 208 just a little while ago."

Just then Peter and Ames walked past them and Chance called out to them. The four moved to a corner where they could talk discreetly.

"Peter, what is room 208 in the east-wing?" asked Chance.

"Hmm, not sure. Maybe it is one of the empty rooms - going to be renovated? I have a part-time assistant who is taking care of some of these matters, she would know." Peter looked around. "I thought she said she would be here today; haven't seen her yet."

"And this assistant, has she worked here for long?" Chance was curious.

"Well, I am not really sure. I think she goes to art school and does a bit here in her spare time. I believe she was hired just a few weeks before I came here. Molly is very efficient. She knows her way around really well, and even though she is a little timid, she seems to have had better luck getting along with the museum staff than I have!"

"Who works your shipping and receiving department?" pressed on Chance.

"Well, our shipping and receiving is a little more complicated than any other place - obviously - because of the value of our shipments. There is a lot of protocol to be followed before we can receive a package into the museum. In fact, that's where I am hoping to make changes - record the item into the database and authenticate it before bringing it into the display halls. But the people here just don't seem to want to change the procedure."

"Why am I not surprised!" sighed Chance. "Okay, I am going to need a list of the people involved in tracking items coming in and going out of here. I supposed you have had many things come in recently for this new exhibit. Do you expect much shipping activity in the coming weeks?"

"Gosh yes! We are in the process of returning many of the exhibits that were displayed here until now. Again, I am trying to authenticate them before returning, and that is taking longer than expected!"

"Okay, one last thing for now Peter," Chance pulled out his phone and showed Peter the picture of Claire. "Have you seen this woman around here?"

Peter laughed, "Why, that's Molly!"


	9. Chapter 9: Guerrero and Winston friends?

**Chapter 9**

Winston sat in the van watching the monitor. He was not in a good mood - the rest of the team was partying or snacking while he played night-watchman. He wished he had thought of packing a meal. That wise-ass Guerrero always had the presence of mind to keep food around him. His blood-sugar was low and his irritability was high. He was tired of listening to Collin Ways's conversations - all about schedules for his ships. You would think people could take a break from their phones when enjoying an evening at the museum! Then there was Marissa who jabbered on about who knows what for hours on the phone! So now here he was trying to figure out who these people were that conversed with these two - most crooks don't use callerID!

He began to compare his list of callers to the tapped phones with the list he downloaded from the jeweler. Okay, a few matches. As he settled down and looked at his files closely he noticed something rather interesting: There were many matches between the people who called Ways and those who spoke to Marissa. In fact, many of the calls made to Marissa this evening were preceded by calls made to Ways by the same person. Winston was beaming at his finding!

He pressed the button to talk to Chance and then realized that he was busy with Peter. Well, maybe he would tell Guerrero of his findings. "Okay dude, that's cool," was the lukewarm response. Winston was mad - he had no one to share his moment of glory with.

Ten minuted later there was a knock on the van. Winston instinctively put a hand on his gun and slowly moved towards the door.

"Open up dude," a familiar voice said.

Winston was taken aback by Guerrero's visit. He quickly let him in, wondering what the matter was. Why wasn't he at his post?

Guerrero entered the van with a pizza-box. He tossed it on the table for Winston, without a word.

"Let's look at the phone logs again,"

Winston was too eager to eat to be bothered with questioning Guerrero or to take slight for his interference. He showed him where the records were on the computer. Guerrero took over from there. As Winston relished his pizza, Guerrero ran through the records.

"I want to take a look at the text messages on the phones," mumbled Guerrero as he searched on.

A few minuted later Guerrero looked up and pulled out his phone. He clicked the button to check call-logs and smiled triumphantly.

"A few minutes before you forwarded the call from the Chinatown dude to me, Marissa seems to have had a rather interesting text exchange with someone with the mention of a Buddha!"

It was a rare event ... Winston and Guerrero shared a moment of jubilation together.

* * *

><p>"Really!" exclaimed Ilsa, Chance, and Ames together.<p>

"So Claire is your Molly," Chance thought out loud. "This stuff just gets more and more interesting!"

"So who is Claire, do you know her?" asked a confused Peter.

"Well, she will certainly recognize my face," declared Chance, "we met in a jewelry store and I thought she was a salesperson there. Now I wonder if that was really true."

"There is a good chance she will recognize you, and maybe even Ames," whispered Ilsa. "So maybe I could look around for her."

"You are going nowhere," Chance responded firmly. "She could be dangerous. In fact, Peter and you should stay right here with the crowd, from here on."

"This is 2011, and I am not some stereotypical curator out of a supermarket novel," Peter informed Chance forcefully. "I was a fencing champion in college, and I am not new to shooting a gun."

Chance smiled. He didn't recall Peter being so offended when Ames offered to protect him.

"Where is your office Peter?" Chance inquired.

"Room 226 in the east-wing," Ilsa responded immediately.

Chance raised an eyebrow at Ilsa's intimate knowledge of Peter's office, and it didn't go unnoticed by her.

"I have visited the curator's office in this museum on many occasions in the past years," she informed him dryly.

"Well, I think we need to get to the east-wing and look around again. Peter, you should pretend to go to your office and stop by 208 on the way," Chance instructed him. I'll be shadowing you.

"I said Peter, not all of you," Chance reprimanded the women as they tried to accompany Peter down to the east-wing. "You two can stay here and keep your eyes open for anything fishy going on."

* * *

><p>Peter walked down the corridor to his room. He and Chance stood in his room for a minute while Chance peeped out of the door to ensure no body was around on that floor, in any of the rooms. Peter picked up a set of master keys from his drawer and the two men made their way towards room 208.<p>

" I haven't been in any of the rooms at this end of the corridor," said Peter as he opened the door to room 210 with his keys. " We are redoing many of them." The room was bare; the walls smelt of fresh paint. As they walked out Chance looked around and pointed to the next door.

"Looks like 209 has lost it's number sign."

"No," said Peter. "that must be the custodian's storage area. We don't number those doors since they aren't offices.

The next door was 208. As Peter swung the door opened, Chance looked in and scowled.

Peter peeped in too. "Oh dear, not too much in here either!"

The room was bare except for the large bookshelf against one wall, and a desk. The smell of cedar wood still lingered in the room.

Chance looked up at the ceiling where Guerrero had left a tiny camera to monitor the door, and sighed.


	10. Chapter 10: Chance and Ilsa

**Chapter 10**

Hands on hips, Chance stood at the doorway of room 208 so that Winston could get a visual, through the camera Guerrero had installed, while he spoke to him.

"It's gone. Every single cedar crate that Ilsa and I found here a few hours ago has disappeared. I thought you said Claire was in the room for barely a moment."

"Sure did," Winston responded emphatically. "Chance, I tell you, no one else walked through that door since Guerrero installed the camera."

Chance believed him. He looked around the room. Okay so no one walked through the door - how else can you get in? He quickly walked up to the large bookcase against the wall and moved it a bit. Sure enough, there was a door behind the bookcase connecting to the custodian's storage room. Furious, Chance marched into the next room and looked around at all the cleaning equipment in there. He walked up to the janitor's cart and peeped inside the trashcan. It was pretty empty. He leaned inside and picked up bits of trash sitting in the bottom of the container. Sure enough, he found a few bits of cedar.

"Of course, what better way to transport stuff from one part of the museum to another; why be original" Chance exclaimed in disgust, and threw the pieces of trash back in.

The two men peeped into a few more rooms in the wing and made their way back to the party.

* * *

><p>Guerrero was back at his post in the loading dock. He hadn't seen much action there thus far, but he knew better than to assume there would be none. Rossini was playing softly in the car, while he chewed on some celery and dip.<p>

A while later he saw shadows lurking by the bay-doors. Two men came out wearing the red museum blazers worn by employees. They were waving their hands emphatically and were obviously in an argument. A woman came out a few minutes later, hands on hips, and seemed to be admonishing the two men. The three talked for a few minutes before walking back in. Guerrero got pictures of them and sent them to Winston.

"Oh yes, that's Claire. I suspect one of the guys must be Andrew. I will get Chance to confirm that. What do you think they are up to?"

"I think the van that comes to pick up the catering stuff, after the party, will make a secret delivery. Maybe I can follow them and see what happens."

* * *

><p>"Yes, that's Andrew all right," Chance confirmed, looking at the picture forwarded to his cell phone by Winston. "Now that you have a picture of him, see if you can check his records. And tell Guerrero we are just observing the guys today. We don't want to catch them right now and scare off the rest of the network. We need to plan this so that we get everybody involved."<p>

Chance walked up to Peter. "We are going to need a cover to hangout in the museum for a couple of days."

Peter promised to get that done.

Ilsa caught up with Chance and they got ready to leave.

* * *

><p>Ilsa picked up her computer bag from her desk at the office. She got ready to leave. Chance walked her to the elevator.<p>

"That was a fairly successful night!" Chance smiled at Ilsa, "Where is Ames, by the way?"

Ilsa laughed, "Peter offered to drop her off."

Chance raised his eyebrows, "And you don't mind?"

"Heavens, why should I! Peter is just a friend; I have known him a long time. He is a really sweet chap, and he and Ames are so adorable together!"

Chance grimaced at the mental picture that Ilsa was drawing. "Seriously, Peter and Ames? Can't imagine what they would have in common."

Ilsa shook her head disapprovingly at his comment. She nudged him in the ribs with her elbow, as they stood waiting for the elevator: "Well, opposites attract you know!"

As soon as she uttered the words, Ilsa regretted it. Chance was leaning against the wall, hands in pocket, grinning wickedly at her.

"Ah yes, the magnetic draw between opposites!" Chance took a step closer to Ilsa and looked into her embarrassed, brown eyes.

Very gently he leaned forward and began to kiss her. Ilsa put her hands on his shoulder and kissed him back slowly. When their lips parted, Ilsa looked up to see him stare at her - in amusement at first, but then very quickly there was that familiar shield that came up: He smiled at her looking uncertain and confused.

Ilsa stared at him for a moment and slowly smiled back, although the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. She stroked his cheek with her fingers and whispered,

"Don't start something you aren't ready to follow-through, Chance."

Chance stared into her sad eyes, taken aback. But he said nothing.

The elevator door opened and Ilsa stepped inside. Chance stood hands in pocket staring at her, pondering over her words, as the doors closed between them.


	11. Chapter 11: Planning the next step

**Chapter 11**

Next morning at the office:

Guerrero, Chance, and Winston were sitting in the conference room. Winston had a picture of Andrew on the screen. He glanced at his watch.

"I think Ilsa told me last week that she will not be in this morning - some charity event in town, but Ames had no prior plans so she must be late. Let's just start."

"Yeah, we can fill them in when they show up," agreed Chance.

"Well, as you can see, Andrew is quite a character. He has a criminal record both in this country and with Interpol," Winston revealed. "He is more than just a hired hand in this business - might be dangerous. So you better be careful," Winston gave Chance a concerned look.

"I can't find anything on Claire or Molly or whatever her name is. She doesn't seem to be registered in any art school in town, as far as I can tell," chimed in Guerrero.

"Well," said Chance thoughtfully, leaning back in his chair, "we have several others to consider too: Ways, Marissa, Xiou, maybe the custodian, some of the people in the supplier lists of the jewelers...there are a lot of pieces to this puzzle."

"I got an email from Peter. He said he will call some time today about finding a way to get you into the museum." Winston bent down and looked at Chance with a serious look, "Again, I really think this is going to be rougher than we first anticipated - this may be more organized than some petty thieves trying to make a quick buck!"

Chance shrugged, "Well, that's why I am saying we need to plan this correctly and leave no loose ends!"

Guerrero scowled at them. "Last night I did see some deliveries made at the loading dock. Some boxes were taken into the museum. I am sure they are all kept somewhere on the first floor of the east-wing. It's not just the people involved we need to consider dude, we need to check all their inventory too. I think they replace some of the artifacts with fakes."

Ames walked in, with a sheepish grin on her face, " Hey guys, sorry I'm a bit late this morning."

"Well, we are just glad you cared enough to show up!" retorted Guerrero sarcastically. "It was a rough evening I guess."

"Well, Peter and I went out for some coffee on the way home from the museum last night, so I went to bed late."

Guerrero and Winston raised their eyebrows and looked at her incredulously. Winston grinned and as he turned around he noticed Chance wasn't mocking Ames. He stared at Chance for a minute and gave him a questioning look, but Chance chose to ignore him.

"Good work on the phone tapping Ames," was all Chance said to her.

Winston cleared his throat and started again, "It appears that Marissa is definitely connected to the black market trade. She seems to have connections with Xiao. And, she knows Collin Ways well, so they must all work together. We are not sure if Andrew and Claire, or Molly or whatever her real name is..., work with these guys or are independent. We have seen some connection between Andrew's employer - the jeweler - and maybe Ways, but nothing more yet. We also don't know exactly who in the museum is in cahoots with these guys. We know Claire is also a part of the museum staff."

"Well we are going under cover into the museum. But we should also think about looking into Ways's shipping company - maybe Ilsa can find us a way in there." Chance was thoughtful, "I am not sure how complicit Ways is, in all of this."

Chance looked at Guerrero, "Can you check up on Ways's reputation with your guys?"

* * *

><p>Chance looked up at Winston, "So Peter has a plan?"<p>

"Well, you are going to play journalist next - you're going to be a rep from a marketing company that is publishing the annual report for share holders of the museum, and others. So you can go around getting information on all the workings of the museum for the report. Guerrero can be the staff photographer who takes pictures of the place."

* * *

><p>Ilsa was at her desk in the office when Chance walked in. He sat at the corner of her desk and smiled at her. "Have a question for you."<p>

_Okay_, thought Ilsa, _we will black-out last night's incident_. She smiled back, "Just one?"

Chance nodded, "Any chance that you can get us a visit to Ways's port-office?"

Ilsa barely paused for a moment and went back to her work on the computer. " You could take some crates over that can be shipped to one of my charities in Bangkok."

"Great," said Chance enthusiastically, "can it be arranged today?"

Ilsa was taken aback, "You are a very demanding man, you know!" she retorted sarcastically giving him her full attention now.

Chance looked her straight in the eye and responded expressionlessly, "Yeah partner, you've made that clear."

They sized each other for a moment, and then Chance explained, " I think it would be useful to check out Ways first before I go after the folks in the museum."

"Fine, I'll make a few calls and see what I can do."

Chance nudged Ilsa's shoulder with the back of his hand, as he left the room. Ilsa shook her head in defeat as she resumed her work on the computer.


	12. Chapter 12: The Port of Oakland

_Many thanks to cedricsowner for her tips!_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 12<strong>

"Dude, as far as my intel goes, Ways is reasonably clean. He isn't personally involved in any kind of smuggling of art." Guerrero informed Chance as they stood at the bottom of the stairs.

"Good, maybe we won't have to spend too much time at the port then," Chance replied looking down at his wrist watch. He sat on the stairs and sighed," I was hoping Ilsa could get us to Ways outfit soon, like today. She went out ... isn't back yet."

"Oh, boss lady will find a way, you can count on it," Guerrero assured him, referring to the power of the Pucci wealth.

Just then the elevator buzzed and the sound of heels clicked their way. Ilsa walked up to them and sat down on the stairs beside Chance.

"There you go partner," Ilsa tossed a bag to Chance. "You're all set to take a crate of donations to the ship. It's for an orphanage in Cambodia. Your paperwork has errors so you will get to spend some time in their office."

Chance peered inside the bag, and found blue hats for him and Guerrero with the logo of a delivery company, and a folder of papers."

"Great, looks like we are all set." He looked at Guerrero, "This should be pretty straight forward, if Ways is harmless."

Ilsa got up to leave. She squeezed Chance's shoulder as she walked past him to her desk, "Take care."

Guerrero looked from Ilsa to Chance, but made no comment.

* * *

><p>Ames walked into the office. Winston, Chance, and Guerrero were nowhere to be seen. She peered into Ilsa's room and found her busy on the computer.<p>

"Hi, I just had lunch with Peter at the museum, and he gave me this." Ames waved the set of CD cases in her hand. "These are some old reports and brochures of the museum. Peter thought we could skim through to get an idea what to do in the museum."

"Well, Chance is gone for the rest of the day. Let's look at it ourselves." Ilsa got up and the two made their way to the conference room.

The women went through the electronic copies of all the reports and brochures of the museum in recent years. These contained charts of revenues which Ilsa carefully scanned, notes on the museum and it's operation, and many pictures of exhibits, events, and employees.

Ilsa was carefully reading through some of the notes on the annual report of 2009, and commented wistfully, "Hmm, looks like they used to collaborate a lot with the Robertson Museum in Atlanta. It was unfortunate, they had to close down the museum in early 2010 because of financial issues; we thought of buying them, but some of the board members weren't too eager."

Ames looked at her wide eyed, but said nothing. They continued to scan pages. At the end of each annual report were photographs of some of the staff.

"Wait, wait ... Ilsa, go back to the previous picture," Ames exclaimed excitedly. Ilsa clicked back at the previous picture - of a staff picnic with family, in Sausalito.

"Look! there is Marissa," Ames pointed out. Sure enough, in the picture Maissa had her arm over a silver haired man in a red blazer.

"So she has, or at least had, a boyfriend or spouse in the museum. Well done Ames! This is a great place to start from."

* * *

><p><em>Port of Oakland<em>

Chance drove a large truck to the container port with Guerrero. Winston wasn't too far behind in the van.

"I will park behind some of the cargo containers to the left of the office," said Winston as Chance drove towards a busy terminal that housed the smaller, privately owned shipping companies.

Chance found a spot and parked. He put on the hat that Ilsa gave and stepped out of the truck. "Lets go see what they have to say about our paperwork," he told Guerrero.

Guerrero stepped out of the truck. He took in the view of the Golden Gate Bridge, the city skyline, and the East Bay suburbs. He stuck his ear piece in position and donned his hat.

Chance watched him, sighed and began to pat his pockets. "Damn, I can't remember where I put my ear piece. Oh well, lets go in now."

* * *

><p>Ames and Ilsa were excited by their findings.<p>

"I tell you, this Marissa gets more intriguing by the minute. Ilsa, let's see what we can find out about her on the internet." They looked for Marissa without any luck. There was no business under her name.

Ilsa shook her forefinger, "Well, I keep bumping into her at events, she must be in charge of something to be important enough to be invited."

Ames thought for a moment, "Can you remember where you met here - at what events? Maybe you can call up the organizers and get some info on her."

Ilsa's eyes lit up, "Yes. I am planning on buying some emeralds from her aren't I? I could say I want to check on how reliable she is for such transactions." Ilsa got up to got o her desk and then stopped.

"You know, we should send Winston the picture of Marissa at the museum picnic. He could try to identify the man while he is sitting in the van waiting for Chance and Guerrero to finish their work."

* * *

><p>Winston sat in the van consuming a BLT sandwich. He felt good about remembering to pack a snack. He didn't have much a view from where he was parked - cargo containers of varied colors stacked up to about 30 feet in many places didn't permit a view of the bay. He could however get a clear view of the 37 gantry cranes of Oakland Port unloading containers, and looming 230 feet above him. Something about them was eerie - almost like a foreboding of disaster...<p> 


	13. Chapter 13:Chance gets curious

**Chapter 13**

Chance and Guerrero walked into the port-office of Ways's shipping outfit. Guerrero rolled his eyes as he spied on the line ahead of him to register their goods. As they waited their turn, fifth in line, Chance looked around trying to spot the security cameras, the exits, etc. Guerrero stood scowling as he adjusted his ill-fitting hat and shifted from one foot to the other.

"Hard to believe the Pucci clout can't get us past this ridiculous line," Guerrero complained to Winston softly. "We are going to be here all day, doubt the clowns ahead of us know how to fill out a form!"

"Watch what you say; your paper work is supposed to be replete with errors," Winston reprimanded him in his earpiece.

Maggie, a serious, middle-aged woman awaited them when they finally reached the front of the line.

"Afternoon Maggie," Chance flashed her a charming smile and handed over his folder of papers. "We have a crate of donations from the Pucci Foundation headed to Cambodia. Here is the paperwork."

Chance put his arm on the desk next to Maggie's computer. The strap of his rather bulky wristwatch was embedded with wireless sensors that enabled Winston to checkout the files on the computer.

Maggie picked up the folder and started leafing through the papers. She began shaking her head in frustration as she carefully read all the forms that were filled out.

"This is very sloppy work," she told Chance crossly. "Usually the people there do a pretty good job with these forms. Someone has been very careless this time." She eyed him suspiciously over her glasses, as though he might be responsible for the incompetence.

_Gee thanks Ilsa_, Chance thought to himself. He gave Maggie a sheepish smile, "I will let the packaging department know about this."

"Okay, now let's see what we need to do." Maggie started pointing to errors made in the form. "The size of your crate is given as 6.5 by 5 feet and 7 feet high. We need to check those dimensions - at least the height. Our carriers are 8 feet high so if there is a problem we will need to rotate your crate around - will that be a problem?"

"No, there are just toys and clothes for kids. That will not be a problem," Chance assured the woman.

Turning her attention to Guerrero, Maggie continued, "Now shipments to Cambodia have to be checked by customs here as well, so we have to take someone to the crate anyway. Paul will be here in a minute and you can take him to your truck."

Returning to Chance she waved a form in her left hand, "You also need to go by the customs office on the other side. They need to stamp this form so that you get tax exceptions for the 'charity foundation' status. But first I need to find your account number - you have it wrong on the form. I know I have it somewhere here on my computer!"

She searched through many different files on the computer, enabling Winston to look around the contents.

Just then Paul, in a Customs department uniform, showed up.

Guerrero leaned over and whispered to Chance, "Dude, I gotto go. Got your earpiece?"

"Ah, it's probably in here somewhere," mumbled Chance looking down at his pockets. "I'll find it later, not a problem. You go take care of things outside."

* * *

><p>"How are things at your end Winston?" Ilsa inquired.<p>

"Fine Ilsa. All is going well here. They are in, and I was able to hack into the computers. Looks clean so far."

"Did you get the picture that we sent you of Marissa at the picnic?"

"Yes, I was just checking that out. The man next to her appears to be a Mike Droner. He is the insurance agent used by the museum for their antiques. I don't know what his relationship with Marissa is as yet, but the pieces are falling in place!"

"I am asking around about her," responded Ilsa. "Maybe someone knows something about her!"

"Let me know, when you hear something. We don't expect to be here too much longer anyway." Winston assured her. "Guerrero said they are getting ready to lift the crate off the truck, and Chance is finishing up with the paperwork."

* * *

><p>Chance finished up with Maggie and got ready to go to the customs booth to get his form stamped. It took him about five minutes to get to the place and there was, once again, a long line in front of him.<p>

Chance sighed and pulled out his cellphone to call Winston.

"Hey, I am waiting in a line to get some stamp from Customs for enabling 'Charity Organization status' or something. Is Guerrero done? I will be ready to leave soon as this is done."

"Yes, Guerrero is almost ready to leave. The crane is lifting the cargo as we speak. And why don't you have your ear-piece on?"

Chance shrugged, "Can't find it - hardly matters for this job. The phone is good enough. I will see you in a bit."

As Chance waited in line, his attention was drawn towards two men leaning against a container on the far left side of the building, smoking and arguing loudly. As he watched them for a few minutes, something about one of them seemed vaguely familiar. Chance thought hard, but could not place the man. Then, as the men blew out their cigarettes and walked past his line, he had a hunch. He pulled out his phone and looked for the picture of Andrew that Guerrero had taken at the museum, and Winston had forwarded to him for confirmation. The picture had another guy standing right next to Andrew. Sure enough, he was indeed the one who just walked by!

_Oh boy, here we go_, thought Chance.


	14. Chapter 14: Where is Chance?

**Chapter 14**

Chance waited in line for a few minutes as he watched the two men leave. When they were a safe distance from him, he left the line and began shadowing them. He climbed on top of the cargo containers and tracked the men as they weaved their way to a distant orange container that seemed to serve as some kind of warehouse.

Chance stayed concealed and watched as the men disappeared inside it. A few minutes later he saw them leave along with a third person. They seemed to be in a hurry, as one of them spoke animatedly in his cellphone and checked his watch for the time. Chance waited a few minutes and made his way into the warehouse.

It was like Ali Baba's visit to the cave: Chance walked into a room filled with all kinds of artifacts, piles of boxes - some of cedar, books, maps, folders filled with papers,...

Chance looked around with a large flashlight that sat right by the door. He was sure there was more lighting in there but he couldn't find it. The room was stuffy. Breathing heavily, Chance looked around trying to make sense of the heap of things there.

He lost track of time. It was probably half an hour later that he heard a noise outside. Chance thought for a moment - he was more or less trapped in the room so he knew his only options were to hide or fight.

Chance turned-off the flashlight and waited. The makeshift door to the room creaked open bringing in some daylight. The smell of cigarette whiffed in. Chance could hear footsteps lightly entering the room. The man hovered by the door looking and feeling for the flashlight without any luck. It was a sign that something wasn't right.

Slowly, the man began took soft steps into the room. The only light coming in was through the doorway and cracks in the joints of the container. Chance was crouched somewhere in the middle of the room in the shadow of a large box.

The man was moving in Chance's direction. Chance waited until he got near and gave him a blow to the knees as he passed by. Taken by surprise, the man fell. The two men wrestled: loud huffing and puffing could be heard, objects went flying across the room,...

Chance had the man on the floor. He had a hand on the man's chest pinning him down, and was about to give him a punch with the other. WHAM, something hit him hard on the head. Chance fell down, he saw stars looming every where, he faintly heard two men talking, and then just darkness...

* * *

><p>Guerrero waited for Chance in the truck. He had been gone longer than expected. He knew things came up; there is nothing like a fixed timeline in this business. But, it had been well over an hour since he left Chance at Maggie's counter.<p>

"Winston, any word from Chance?"

Winston was taken aback, "No, I thought you two were in contact. The last I heard from him he was in line at the Custom's booth; he said he would be done in a bit."

Guerrero sighed, "Well, I will go take a walk and see if I can spot him. Why don't you try calling his cellphone, or texting him if he cant talk."

* * *

><p>One hour later (5:00pm):<p>

"Any signs of him?" Winston asked Guerrero in his earpiece.

"Nothing dude. The Custom's booth and Ways's office are now closed. No signs of him anywhere."

"Dammit Chance, why couldn't you have your earpiece on." Winston was starting to get frustrated. "I can't seem to get a Wifi signal from his wristwatch either - don't know if he is out of range."

"Well, or if he is in one of these thousands of metal containers here, your signal wouldn't get through," Guerrero reminded him dryly.

* * *

><p>7:00pm<p>

"Guerrero, anything?" Winston was clearly concerned now. It was more than three hours since Chance had touched base with him.

"He has vanished," responded Guerrero glumly. "I have scouted all the places he was supposed to go to. We have to move, dude, it's getting too late to be here. We might be able to do something from the office."

"I guess you are right. And Ilsa called a little while ago, wondering what was up."

"What did you tell the boss,"

"Oh, just that Chance was out sleuthing around for longer than I expected."

* * *

><p>Winston and Guerrero walked into the office. They were tired and worried. They went straight to the conference room and set up shop there. Guerrero was soon on the floor working on a computer. Winston brought a satellite picture of the area on the screen and studied the terrain.<p>

Ilsa walked into the room. Winston looked up, surprised to find her still there.

Ilsa smiled, unaware of any problems. "So did everything go well. What are you guys still working on?"

Winston groaned inwardly, this was going to be hard.

"Well, we appear to have lost contact with Chance for now. So we are trying to locate him."

Ilsa didn't get the full implication at first. She stared at the satellite image on the screen.

"Where did he go? He can't give you his exact coordinates? You don't know where to pick him up from?"

"We've lost him, boss," Guerrero informed her quietly. Winston looked at Guerrero and shook his head in despair!

"Wha.. what do you mean by he is lost?" Ilsa was now starting to get the picture. "Why don't you ask him where he is?"

Winston shook his head and glared at Guerrero before replying in exasperation, "BECAUSE HE DOESN'T HAVE HIS EARPIECE WITH HIM!"

Ilsa was a little shocked by Winston's outburst but chose to let it pass. She was starting to feel the panic.

Guerrero looked at her and said apologetically about Winston, "He isn't very good at handling stressful situation."

Looking at Winston he continued, "Dude, you seriously need to think about some exercise and yoga regimen, you know."

Ilsa paced back and forth while the men continued their work. In an attempt to assure herself more than the two men there, she reminded them,

"Chance always finds a way out, right. And what's more, he will do it in some spectacular way. He probably just needs some time to figure out a plan."

Winston was sitting down, one hand supporting his head, while using the keyboard with the other. He looked up at Ilsa and sighed, "Go home Ilsa, it's late. We will apprise you of any developments. We don't really know that Chance is in danger. He could be busy following some crooks and may not be in a position to call us."

But Ilsa didn't respond. She walked back to her desk quietly.

* * *

><p>She was back an hour later.<p>

"What about his cellphone. His Android has a GPS. Can't you track that?"

"Yes," responded Guerrero without looking up. "That's exactly what I am doing. I need to get into a cell tower and transmit to his phone for that!"

Another half hour passed. Guerrero was starting to feel better. His contraption was working. He and Winston started at the monitor as they received a signal from Chance's GPS.

Just then Ilsa walked in. She had some Chinese takeout in hand for the men. She set them down on the table and inquired:

"So you are able to locate Chance's phone then?" she stared at the monitor. There was nothing particularly interesting on the screen. "Where is the phone?" she asked again.

Winston looked down, dejected. "Somewhere on the floor of the Pacific Ocean!"


	15. Chapter 15: The Hunt

**Chapter 15**

"Chance is somewhere in the Pacific Ocean?" Ilsa shrieked.

"Well, his cellphone sure is," clarified Guerrero.

"Well, what about him? Is he taking a swim in there? Is he on a ship headed to Hawaii, and his cellphone fell off the boat? Is he on a cruise or is he a prisoner?"

Ilsa was starting to get hysterical.

"WINSTON! Can you do something? Or should we go to the police. The SF Police Commissioner is on my speed dial!"

"ILSA, slow down now." Winston walked up to her. "We are trying everything we can."

Slowly and calmly he explained, "We don't know for certain yet that Chance is in danger. Well, something isn't quite right, we know that. But we need to wait and see if Chance tries to make contact. We know how to handle this."

Gently, he took Ilsa's arm and led her out of the conference room and back to her desk.

When Winston returned, he sat down and put his head in his hands. He shook his head as he looked at Guerrero.

"Dude, give her a break. This isn't easy for her. It's deja vu for her- her husband disappeared and we all know what happened next."

Winston sighed, sat up straight, and looked seriously at Guerrero, "Okay, what do you think we should do? Should we tell Ilsa to get the Police?"

"Heck no! It's still early." Guerrero was aghast. "Look, knowing Chance, he will find some crazy way to get out of whatever trouble he is in. We just need to be around if he needs assistance."

"So what do we do with this information about the phone?" asked Winston.

"Let's drive by the ocean and see if we can find anything. If Chance is on a ship, it is going to set sail soon, if it already hasn't. We don't have too much time."

Winston looked at the map on the monitor and commented, "His cell phone seems to be in the bay near Marin County so lets drive towards there."

* * *

><p><em>A few hours earlier:<em>

Chance gained conscience, everything felt hazy. He realized he was lying down - on a really hard floor. His head throbbed, his body hurt, nothing felt good.

_Okay, so it looks like I'm in a spot of trouble here_, he realized.

He looked around to assess the situation some more. He didn't move yet, just in case someone was watching him. He opened his eyes - it was dark in the room. He was lying on a hard wooden floor. His arms and feet were tied. He flexed his toes and winced in pain - Oh yes, he was beaten up pretty bad. He could feel broken skin all over his body and face. He closed his eyes again. The floor rocked slightly. Was that an earthquake? He thought again - okay, he was on a ship. Slowly, he began recollecting the events of the past hours.

Chance lifted his head, it hurt. He was in something like a storage room. Barrels, boxes, and other items were stashed all over the room. Suddenly he heard a loud sound that took him by surprise. It was the horn of the ship, indicating it was starting to sail.

Okay, I better think about getting out before this boat before it gets too far. This boat is probably going to sail into the Pacific Ocean pretty soon.

Chance slid his way to a nearby crate with sharp ends and began wearing his shackles. The ropes around his wrists loosened. Despite his exhaustion and pain, he persevered to get the ropes off his ankles and wrists. He was about to leave the room when he realized someone might come looking for him. So instead he pretended to be tied down and waited...

A man walked into the room. He looked at Chance lying down presumably unconscious, and began dragging him out of the room by his shirt. Before he knew it Chance had wrestled him down on the floor. Chance picked up a heavy metal bar that the man had brought in with him, and was ready to strike him when he got a close look at him - he was no more than a boy!

Chance sighed. No wonder he could wrestle him down so easily even in his weak condition - he was no more than sixteen. He knew the kid needed a break.

What's your story kid? What are you trying to do to me?"

The young man timidly replied, "I was told to drop you off into the ocean by my boss Emanuel."

"Where are we? How did I get here?" Chance needed some sense of his coordinates.

"We are moving out of the San Francisco Bay towards the Golden Gate Bridge, en route to some island in the Pacific Ocean. I think you were brought here on a boat from the Oakland Port along with some cargo."

"So you don't know who brought me here?"

"No said the boy. I am new here. The men were friends of Emanuel. I should warn you, he will be here any minute."

"Okay, I am going to let you go. But you stay out of trouble and get a job elsewhere as soon as you can. We will pretend I am in the ocean."

Chance left the room and made his way to the far end of the ship. He was badly injured and tired, he knew he couldn't swim far. He would have to hide and wait for an opportune moment.

* * *

><p>Winston was driving the van. It was late. He was worn out. Guerrero sat fiddling with his laptop. He didn't say much. The tension was tangible. They were driving over the Golden Gate Bridge. Guerrero looked out towards the bay.<p>

He played with some of the controls on his laptop for the Wifi signal. Suddenly he got a signal from a new receiver. It was from Chance's wrist watch!

"Whoa, slow down there!" Guerrero motioned Winston. " I am able to communicate with Chance's wrist watch. He must be some where here."

"Well we are almost at the end of the bridge. Lets get off and look around."

They parked in the National Recreation Area and started scouting around. After an hour of searching around, Winston saw something huddled near a bush. The men ran down and looked- yes, it was a body. They turned it over - CHANCE - the men were relieved, but too tired for even a shout of joy.

Chance wasn't fully conscious. He was was bleeding badly. He had some nasty cuts and scrapes in his face. But he was alive.

As they transported him back to the van and made their way back to the office, Winston called Ilsa.

"Ilsa, we found Chance. He is going to be all right."


	16. Chapter 16: Rescued

**Chapter 16**

Guerrero and Winston lifted Chance by the shoulder and brought him into the lobby. Chance was still groggy; he moaned a bit but didn't say much. They sat him on the couch in the lobby area.

Ilsa rushed in. She looked anxious but didn't say a word. She looked at the two men who pointed to Chance. She walked slowly towards him.

He looked terrible: His eyes were closed. There were some deep gashes in the back of his neck with blood oozing out. He had scratches all over is face. He smelt of seaweed. His clothes were stained in blood.

Ilsa stared at him for a moment. Winston watched her, worried how she would react. She turned pale as she took in his injuries. She gulped and walked a little closer to him. She looked up at Winston and whispered,

"Is he okay?"

"I am fine," Chance murmured unexpectedly. His eyes were still closed.

"Yes, of course you are, Chance," Ilsa nodded quietly without much emotion.

Winston smiled with relief and walked up to Chance. "He needs some first aid, a shower and some food, and he will be fine."

"Shall I call a doctor here? Looks like he needs some stitches," Ilsa inquired softly.

"I will take care of it," Guerrero assured her.

Winston looked at Ilsa. "You should go home. It is almost morning. We are going to be busy cleaning up Chance for most of the morning."

"I have a conference call with the London office soon. So I might as well stay. Let me know if you need anything."

Ilsa walked back to her room.

The two men looked at each other, but said nothing. This was not the reaction they had anticipated from Ilsa - they would never have expected her to be so subdued.

* * *

><p>Late afternoon:<p>

Ilsa walked up to Chance's den. She could hear the three men talking. She had ordered some food for them and the leftovers were sitting on the coffee table.

Chance was sitting on his couch. He was cleaned up and sewn up. He looked a lot better except for the scratches and stitches.

"Emanuel. That's the name I got from the kid. He must be some kind of smuggler." Chance was telling the other two men.

Ilsa stood at the doorway. She looked at Winston.

"I guess you spoke to Peter; the visit to the museum is postponed?"

Winston nodded. "We will wait until Chance is back on his feet."

Ilsa looked at Chance, "How are you feeling now?"

"Oh I am just fine, ... a little sore maybe. I should be back to normal tomorrow."

Winston looked at Ilsa. She looked pale and drawn.

"You really should go home and get some sleep Ilsa. You need to rest too. You have been up all night."

Ilsa smiled, "I guess I should." She looked at Chance, " Well, you get some rest."

Chance smiled at her, but didn't say anything.

The three men talked for a little while. As Guerrero got ready to leave, he stopped at the doorway and looked at Chance.

"It's a good thing you got yourself out of that mess, bro. Otherwise Ilsa would have killed me for letting you leave without your earpiece."

Chance sighed but said nothing.

"Dude, she was really worried about you. It never hurts to let people know you appreciate their concern you know...just saying." And Guerrero left.

Chance closed his eyes and tried to sleep.

A few hours later he opened his eyes, hearing the click of heels downstairs. He tried to get up from the couch but his legs hurt too much. He called out loudly:

"Ilsa, is that you?"

Ilsa came up and inquired from the doorway, "Do you need anything Chance?"

"I thought you had left hours ago."

"No, I was here. I am just getting ready to leave."

Chance looked at Ilsa. Winston was right, she looked drained.

"Want to get us both a drink," he asked her, pointing to a bottle on a cabinet by the wall.

Ilsa brought them both a drink and sat beside him on the couch. They took their first sips in silence. Chance turned to look a her. Ilsa was sitting quietly, circling the glass of scotch on her palm. It was more than a minute before she realized he was staring at her. She smiled sheepishly but said nothing. Chance looked at her thoughtfully for another minute and then gently took the glass from her hands to get her full attention.

Ilsa looked up at him nervously as he squeezed her right hand and held it. He had a serious look, he wasn't playing games with her for sure.

"Ilsa, you cannot freak out every time I run into trouble. This is what I signed up for."

Ilsa gulped but said nothing.

"I am not Christopher Chance because I can pull the trigger faster than my opponent, like in some cowboy movie. I have this instinct, I,... I can think fast and react quickly in situations and save myself. That's why I can do what I do. Yes, I may not always get lucky, but who does?"

Ilsa looked at him and gave a nervous smile, but did not utter a word. Chance handed her back her drink and they finished it in comfortable silence.

When Ilsa looked up from her drink, she found Chance had dozed off again. She was exhausted from the multitude of emotions she had experienced in the past day. She stared at him for a while without moving. He still held her right hand. Then carefully, trying not to wake him up with any noise, she covered her mouth with her left hand, and finally let the tears roll down her face.


	17. Chapter 17: Final Plans

**Chapter 17**

_(Thanks to cedriscowner for the tips_)

Ames helped Chance settle into a chair in the conference room. Winston and Guerrero followed. Ilsa came in a few minutes later with a box of donuts and muffins.

Everybody sat down with their snack and looked at Chance.

Chance put his hands up, "Okay, okay I will make sure I have my earpiece with me anytime I am on a job!"

"Right, let's see where we are on the case before we go to the museum," Winston started the meeting.

Ames began, "Ilsa and I started digging around about Marissa. It appears she moved to San Francisco from Atlanta, five years ago. Her boy friend of many years is Mike Droner, the insurance agent at the museum. Winston checked him out. He doesn't have a record, so far. He moved here from the Robertson Museum a few years ago. That museum closed down recently."

Chance sighed, "Okay so we have Claire and this Mike guy in the museum who are corrupt. We can connect Marissa to Mike, and Andrew to Claire. Andrew has contacts in the shipping dock for sure. Xiao seems to have contact with Marissa."

Winston scratched his head. "Andrew is probably one of the biggest players here. Guerrero is trying to get info on Emanuel and we will see if we can connect him to something. And I will see if I can find out about the guy in the dock that you had a picture of on your phone."

Chance looked up, "Ah yes, I need another phone. Can't believe it's in the bottom of the ocean - must have fallen of when they threw me into the second boat."

Winston looked at him, "Well thank goodness for that. Otherwise we may have not been on the road and found you!"

Chance shrugged, "Well it's not like I really needed your help. I would have found a way to get in touch eventually."

Winston and Guerrero looked at each other and shook their head. Chance would never admit to needing help!

Chance sat up. "Tomorrow, Guerrero and I will got to the museum and take some notes and pictures. We can hopefully look through the first floor of the east-wing and find which rooms are being used for this smuggling work. Ames, I may need you to get into the attic space and enter rooms from the ceiling without being seen, so you should plan on accompanying Winston in the van. Ilsa can be our outside contact should anything happen. In the meantime let's see if we can dig up some information on some of the people we are looking at."

* * *

><p>Guerrero looked at Chance. "Yeah, got my men to check on Emanuel. He is pretty well known around the docks of Oakland and San Francisco. Has a little fleet of boats that are used for all kinds of shady businesses. He has been in and out of prison many times."<p>

Winston got on the computer and began his search. "Okay, I got it. Emanuel Capolla. Yeah, interesting fellow. Lots of stuff about him here... Hey Chance, look at these pictures. Here are some of the people who have been arrested with him in different cases. Doesn't this guy look like the one you saw at the Custom's booth?"

Chance looked at the screen to see a file picture of a Marcus Lamas. "Yeah, that's Andrew's friend all right. Let's look at his records, Winston."

"Hmm, this is interesting." Winston clicked though Marcus's records. "Guess what, the guy has a lot of unpaid parking fines,... and curiously, a few of them are for illegal parking outside the Gilbert Museum. Coincidence or what!"

"Well, maybe tomorrow we can see how to connect these guys to the museum, and finish this case."

Winston looked at Chance, "So you think you are up to it. Do you need some more time to recover? These people are a dirty bunch you know."

Chance scoffed at Winston's ridiculous suggestion, "I am just fine."

* * *

><p>Ilsa was busy on her computer. Chance walked into her room.<p>

"Busy?" Chance asked her. Ilsa looked up and waved a hand.

"Come here. Look what I found."

Chance walked up by her and sat on her desk. Ilsa was looking at pictures of a social event somewhere. Ilsa smiled and tilted the monitor for Chance to get a good look. This is a Flickr file from two years ago that my friend Rose emailed me when I inquired about Marissa. Take a look."

Chance clicked through the pictures without too much interest until ...

"Okay, here is Marissa. Is that what you are talking about?"

Ilsa leaned back in her chair and smiled brightly. "Yes, but keep going."

Chance scowled and kept clicking on. All of a sudden he stopped, stared at a picture, and then went back a forth between three pictures. His eyes lit up as he looked at Ilsa,

"Gosh Ilsa, this is something. That has got to be Claire with Marissa, despite the black hair. Winston is right, these people are a rough bunch."

Ilsa smiled proudly, "That's not all. My friend says Marissa introduced her as her daughter, but she can't remember a name. Neither Molly nor Claire rang a bell."

Chance was excited now, "Well, I will have Winston look into that. Why don't you start checking into Mike Droner when he was in Atlanta. Maybe you can find some old contacts at the Robertson Museum."

Chance jumped down and got ready to leave.

"Here is something for you," Ilsa opened her drawer and pulled out a cellphone. "Just ordered this for you. You will have to read the manual to get all the functions"

Chance picked it up wide-eyed, "Whoa, this is something."

He winked at Ilsa as he walked out of the room, "So, let me guess, you had them put some fancy GPS in this phone that you can track personally from your computer, right?"

Ilsa laughed and went back to her work.

* * *

><p>Guerrero stopped by Ilsa's office on his way out.<p>

"You wanted to have a word with me, boss?"

Ilsa looked embarrassed. She hesitated a little and then inquired cautiously,

"So you and Chance are off to the museum tomorrow. What's the plan?"

Guerrero looked confused. "The plan? You know the plan, question is what's bothering you?"

Ilsa was in a spot now. She hesitated:

"I,... I was just wondering... if you were planning to take out the guys tomorrow or if you were just trying to find more leads."

Guerrero saw where this was going. Ilsa was still shaken from the incident. He looked straight at her through his glasses,

"Look boss, I can't guarantee Chance will not do anything crazy, but he will not be doing things like leaving his earpiece behind." Then his look softened as he turned to leave the room.

"Don't worry, it'll be fine."


	18. Chapter 18: Another visit to the museum

**Chapter 18**

Chance was getting his gear ready for the visit to the museum. Winston walked in and sat down, watching him.

"So I will be in touch with you soon as I get word on any of the folks we are looking into. With Ilsa's help I did manage to find out a bit about Marissa's past. She grew up in Georgia, has a child - a girl, presumably Claire or Molly or whatever, never got married, and seems to have connections with Mike Droner for the last 7 years. So Droner must have brought Molly into the museum."

"I'll ask Peter to look into the employment records of Droner and Molly," said Chance. "We need to get the connection between Andrew and all these people somehow."

* * *

><p>Peter introduced Chance and Guerrero to some of the museum employees.<p>

"This is Chris and George. They are from the PR company that publishes our annual report. They are working on some brochures we need for our next funding campaign, as well an article about this museum to be published in a well-known art-magazine. So please be sure they have access to all aspects of the museum's functioning."

None of the men looked terribly thrilled at the proposition, but no one seemed suspicious either. Lisa was assigned to take the two men around.

"Say Lisa," asked Chance, "can we get an unused office room for the time we are here. You know, some place to put down our computer, camera equipment and stuff."

Lisa was eager, "Oh sure, let's go to the east-wing where the offices are located. There are many empty rooms there. Typically, Molly, our part-time administrator takes care of office allotments, but she isn't scheduled to be in today. So I will just get you an empty office room today, and if Molly has a problem with it she can assign another one to you when she is here."

"So how do you manage with a part-time administrator?" Chance asked casually. "Doesn't that slow down things around here?"

"Oh no, Molly is just a student worker. She is very efficient and has slowly taken on more responsibilities; we do have full time staff in admin." Lisa was worried she was making the museum look inefficient.

"Student worker huh," Guerrero interposed. "My niece is in art school, she would love to get a part-time job here! Do you guys advertise on campuses or did Molly know someone here?"

Chance gave Guerrero a look of respect!

"Well, I think Mike here knew someone who knew her. We don't have any other student workers but you could ask Peter if there are any openings."

When they arrived in the east-wing and walked down the corridor, Chance made it a point to trip Guerrero right in front of room 208 - down went the a whole bunch of the photography equipment!

Guerrero swore under his breath, and got down to pick things up.

"Any of these rooms available," Chance asked Lisa as they all got on their fours to pick up all the little things that had fallen and rolled around.

"You know Chris, this room here 208 just might be empty, lets see if we can get in."

* * *

><p>Chance and Guerrero put their gear down in room 208. There were no changes made to the room since Chance last saw it. Lisa left the room. Guerrero got up and dug out a few things from his bag. He and Chance moved the bookshelf to uncover the door to the custodian's storage room. Guerrero went into the room and bugged it.<p>

* * *

><p>"The UPPS guy is coming by," Winston let Guerrero know in his earpiece. Guerrero walked by the shipping and receiving office and found two men sitting in there.<p>

"Dude, Peter is having inventory issues. He wants all you guys to meet with him in the third floor of the north-wing in five minutes. Better round up all the guys around here and wait for Peter, now."

Guerrero waited for the men to leave, and started snooping around in the room. Meanwhile Chance, donning a red museum blazer, opened the bay doors of the loading dock just as the shipping truck arrived there. He smiled at the UPS man as he placed a pile of parcels on his dolly and pushed them into the building.

"Hi there! How are you? Need some help getting all that?"

"Hi! Where is Joe today? Is he inside, in the office?" The UPPS guy looked around surprised by the absence of the usual guys.

"Well, they were all at a meeting, haven't gotten back yet. I am new here, I was filling in for them. I can help you." Chance walked with him to the office.

"So this is your usual route? You have been delivering packages here a long time?"

"Well, it's only been a month - long enough to know the drill here. I am actually a new employee, I got this job because the guy who did this route before me died."

"Really," Chance feigned intrigue, "that's terrible!"

"Yeah," he went on, " I believe they found his body somewhere in the Oakland docks. Very weird. Everyone was shocked."

Now Chance was truly intrigued, "Wow, that's tragic. What was his name? I don't think I read about it in the papers."

"Greg Larson, pretty young guy too. Very sad."

_"Okay Chance, I got the name. I will look into it right away," Winston let Chance know in his earpiece._

They reached the office to find Guerrero sitting on a chair with his feet up, crunching a celery.

"Don't mind him," Chance told the man, "do you know what the usual procedure is to drop off packages?"

"Oh yes, the packages go into the crate under there. I will take that pile over here to ship off, and sometimes they have a few in the cupboard there as well," said the guy pointing to a locked cupboard against the wall.

"It's all here in this pile now I looked in there," Guerrero grunted, "you can take them."

When they were alone again, Chance looked down at Guerrero. "If you don't mind, we need to look around here and rush it. Those guys will be back pretty soon."

"Don't worry bro, I took care of it. Peter will keep them upstairs for a while..."

Chance was surprised, but took Guerrero's word for it. "Okay, so you have taken pictures of all the packages that were shipped off?"

Guerrero nodded affirmatively, "I retained a few that looked fishy. They are above the ceiling tiles."

The two men examined the parcels that had been delivered. They picked a few that they were suspicious of and stowed them in the ceiling too.

"Ames will be here shortly, she just got up into the attic space while the UPPS dude was here. She will get the parcels up to 208. Let's go"


	19. Chapter 19: Putting the pieces together

**Chapter 19**

Guerrero and Chance got back to room 208 and called Winston.

"It looks like all parcels leaving and entering the museum are to be checked by Mike Droner, the insurance guy. So there is no doubt the dude is dirty!" Guerrero started. "Say Winston, did boss-lady uncover anything on the guy yet?"

"Yes, Ilsa did speak to someone in Atlanta. Droner claimed he was broke after his divorce and had family in San Francisco that could help him out. So he moved here. The guys at the Robertson Museum helped him get a job here."

"Well, my sources tell me he had gambling debts in Atlanta," said Guerrero, "either way, the guy is dirty."

"Chance, I just got the Police report on Greg Larson's death - the UPPS guy. Interesting information here - the last person he saw before he was found dead was Marcus Lamas, Andrew's buddy. They met at a bar for a drink."

"Well," said Chance, "I think we know the stars of this case. We just need to get a few more pieces of the puzzle in place!"

* * *

><p>Ames knocked on the side door of room 208. She was in the custodial storage room, dressed in a blue uniform.<p>

Guerrero looked at Ames grumpily and pointed to the janitor's cart with his elbow, "How did you get hold of that?"

"It never hurts to know the boss," Ames retorted flippantly, alluding to Peter's help.

The three of them pulled out the packages from the trashcan in the janitor's cart. They were opening the boxes in room 208 when Peter knocked. He walked in and looked at Ames, "Mission accomplished, I see."

He sat down on the floor with them and rummaged through the parcels.

"Here is a parcel that was being shipped out to Korea." Ames opened a package. It contained a cedar box - a Korean figurine was in it. When they pulled out the secret compartment in the bottom they found an ornate jewel box."

Peter examined it. "Hmm, nice piece. But it is not ours. I guess they were just using our package to get through customs checkpoints."

Chance stood up thoughtfully. "Okay, now I get what the warehouse at the dock was. I was looking around there and found boxes, paper work,... I guess they pay people like the UPPS guy to get the package out for a while. They get the items out of the secret compartment, repackage them in regular boxes, and put them back into shipping. That's why they had all that paperwork there, because they had to do it right."

Guerrero opened a box that had been delivered. It had a beautiful statue in the hidden compartment. Peter looked at it and gasped in surprise. "I thought we have this here."

"Sure you do," Guerrero informed him. "This is a fake to switch with yours. That's why they don't want you to reexamine your items."

"Winston said Ilsa contacted one of her board members who had vetoed her idea to buy the Robertson Museum last year. The guy said he had heard rumors that the reason the museum went broke was because quite a few of their artifacts could not be authenticated... Droner must have switched some of them years ago, and he had been gone for a while so they couldn't pin it on anyone." Ames informed the group.

Peter wasn't too amused by what he had just learned. "Well, let's put this parcel back in the store room intact. I will catch Droner myself. And I know people who used to work at Robertson Museum. I can have them check what happened there when he was working for them."

Peter looked at Chance, "Tomorrow we are supposed to be shipping some of our previous exhibits back to their respective countries. If you are looking for action, that's probably when you will get it."

* * *

><p>Chance and Guerrero made their way to the first floor of the east-wing. Guerrero had an idea where the gang worked from. They entered a few of the rooms that weren't in use and searched the cabinets, boxes, and under tables, but found nothing.<p>

"Dude, I swear, this is where they work from. I know it." Guerrero was starting to get frustrated.

Chance sat on a table and looked around scowling. They were missing something! He stared at the walls, moved from one empty wall to the next. The room was old and dingy. The walls were white but stained and dull. And yet,... yet the wall down in the far end was clean and gleaming like it was painted recently. Chance walked up to the wall and banged it with his fist. Genuine drywall there.

"Guerrero let's go to the room on the other side of this wall." The two men rushed to the next room. As they headed to the back wall they noticed it was freshly painted too. A singe old bookshelf stood in one end of the wall.

"Oh boy, these guys really need some fresh ideas!" Chance walked straight up to the bookshelf and kicked it hard. The bookshelf swung open like a door revealing a small, rectangular hidden room. At the other end of it was a large vault.

"Want to take a guess who has the combination to this vault?" Guerrero quizzed Chance.

"It's got to be the elusive Claire, I bet," Chance responded.

"Yeah, but fortunately I don't need to know the combination to open a lock."

Guerrero had it open in no time and they looked in to find it filled with artifacts. Chance picked out an expensive statue and a pair of emerald earrings from the vault.

"Make sure it is closed and locked exactly like it was before," he instructed Guerrero.

"Ah, I see what your doing bro; Andrew must be the only other one who has the combination."

Chance grinned, " And I thought you were going to say I was trying to steal Ilsa a present!"


	20. Chapter 20: It ALL ends well

**Chapter 20**

_(Some references to season1, episode 11)_**  
><strong>

It was late afternoon. Chance and Guerrero continued their rounds gathering data and pictures of the museum for the alleged publications.

Winston spoke to Chance. "Hey, it looks like the guys are packing up stuff for tomorrow's shipment. There has been a lot of activity in the custodian's store room. I have lot of video coverage."

Chance had a plan: "Yes, Peter said many of the past exhibits are being shipped overseas tomorrow. They must be trying to sneak things in with them. Tonight we will examine all of them, maybe remove some of the illegal items, and put tracers on all the packages. We can be at the port tomorrow when the packages get there. Marcus Lamas and his crew will be looking to unpack some of those boxes after the customs check, get their stuff out and pass it on to Emanuel. When the packages aren't as expected, there is going to be confusion and accusations. We can tip the port security at that point to nab all of them. Andrew is going to be in trouble with them, as well as with Claire who is going to assume he took things from the hidden vault in the museum. Peter is going to handle Mike Droner, and that should get us to Marissa, and Claire, as well. Droner may give up his comrades in the museum, but we will also have your video tape of the store room. That should help identify most of the corrupt guys here. I think we are all set."

* * *

><p><em>Late next evening at the office:<em>

Winston flopped into a chair and wiped his brow. "Whew, that was a long day. I'm glad it all ended well and as Chance had predicted."

Guerrero narrowed his eyes and replied, his voice laced with sarcasm and a pinch of anger: "When you insist on WAITING for directions from the GPS, this is what happens! You take the longest route and reach late, and very nearly mess everything up!"

Winston looked up coldly at Guerrero, "Like I have said many times before, taking directions from you is NOT an option for me. I enjoy living with all my limbs intact. And what's your problem, everything worked out just fine in the end didn't it?"

Guerrero leaned back against a table, hands across his chest, and head held up high much like a silhouette of Napoleon. "Sure dude, I caught Marcus with my blades just as he lept into a boat; I helped Chance overpower the crooks in the warehouse, and then I got Emanuel's guys... do I need to go on?"

Winston didn't back down either. "I WAS WATCHING YOUR BACK sitting 20 feet up on those containers. I was the one who informed you of Marcus's getaway plan, Chance's predicament, the location of Emanuel's thugs,...REMEMBER THAT wise-ass?"

Guerrero tried something different, "Well, what do you think Ilsa would have to say if I let her know we almost arrived late at the dock warehouse to meet Chance who was in some danger, because we had to listen to the lady on the dashboard for directions?"

Winston stared at Guerrero with his mouth open in disbelief. He could not believe how puerile this argument had become. "Wait... so now you are telling me you want to take this to ILSA. What is wrong with you ..."

Just then Ilsa walked in with a box of pizza for the gang. "Did someone mention my name?" She looked from one man to the other and sensed the animosity. "Is something wrong? I thought everything went really well today. Peter is coming here in a bit to thank you all. We can celebrate!"

Guerrero scowled and stomped towards the pizza. Winston sighed and turned his chair toward the table, drumming his fingers on it. As Guerrero helped himself to a slice of pizza, Ilsa got up quickly. "Oh, I have some plates and silverware in the kitchen."

"DONT BOTHER," the two men chimed in unison. Winston knew Guerrero had serious reservations about eating pizza with a fork and knife, and he did not want to compound the situation any more - he wasn't in a mood for another outburst from Guerrero.

Ilsa was taken aback by this instant camaraderie, but knew it was best not to comment.

Chance and Ames walked in with some glasses. "Hey folks," Chance said pleasantly, "Peter will be here any minute with a nice bottle of scotch." Guerrero calmed down instantly.

* * *

><p>Peter beamed. "I can't thank you all enough. This has been such a relief - for the first time since I moved here two months ago I feel good about having taken up this job." He gave Ames a quick smile and continued, "I caught Droner red-handed as he was about to switch the statues. Molly, or Claire as you know her, was distressed to hear the news. Then when she found the stuff missing in the vault, she thought Andrew was playing games with her and Droner. Meanwhile Lamas had called up Andrew to inform him that he hadn't received the items from the museum, so he was suspicious of her. They got into an angry fight, and by the time the police arrived we had all sorts of information on tape. Cheers, great work all around!"<p>

They all cheered and enjoyed their drink. A little later Peter whispered to Ames, "I have some business with Ilsa in her office. But after that shall we go out for coffee?"

Ames smiled as Peter and Ilsa left the room.

Guerrero gave Ames a careful look, "I'm curious, how did you two hook up together? Makes no sense!" Winston shook his head in disbelief at Guerrero, but Ames just blushed.

"Well, we were talking over a drink in the party at the museum when Peter asked me about ..."

Guerrero had had enough. "NEVER MIND. Not the answer I was looking for!" He stood up and got ready to leave. "Later dude..." Winston sighed, "I guess I should call it a day too. See you folks tomorrow."

When Peter and Ilsa returned, they sat down with Chance and Ames and continued their drink. "I got all of Ilsa's contacts at the Robertson Museum. It should help with the case against Droner. So Ames, shall we leave?"

Ilsa smiled as she watched Ames and Peter leave.

"So are you feeling better, now that the case is over?"

Ilsa smiled at Chance, "I have always had faith in your abilities. Otherwise I wouldn't have bought this place." She slowly picked his left hand and squeezed it, and added seriously, "But, I also know you have this death wish."

Chance turned quickly to face her and looked her in the eye, "Ilsa, the earpiece thing was an accident. I have never forgotten it before. Don't get all Freudian over that." He paused and took another sip of his drink. Staring at his drink he continued, "Honesty, I haven't thought much about redemption in recent weeks."

Ilsa smiled inwardly at his revelation and took another sip of her drink. When she noticed that she was still holding his hand, she squeezed it tighter and drew it closer to her.

* * *

><p><strong>THE END<strong>

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><p>Thanks for all the reviews - they really help.<strong><br>**


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